Five Star Experience
by Imorb
Summary: The tale of a normal college student working at a hotel, a coming-to-fame rock star, and the picture that started it all.Blackmail, cross dressing, and a dream crushed. The guy should watch his impulses, he might just fall in love with those too blue eyes
1. Chapter 1

Five Star Experience

By: Imorb

Thanks to Nessie-san!

WARNING! This story contains: cross-dressing, blackmail, sex, rape, not-so-awesome original songs, mental break downs, shone-ai (yaoi, boy/boy, whatever you want to call it), impulsive red heads, incorrect wording, hairless-ness of pubic parts (O_o), cooking maniacs, overly hyper guitarists, sensible drummers, bunny rabbits (auh), and a whole 'fuck it' mentality.

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Chapter One

"Roxas!" he winced; the deep voice from the blonde's superior made his ears want to fall off. He looked apologetically at his coworker with a sad smile. "Sorry, I gotta-"

"Roxas, get your butt over here or you can kiss your paycheck goodbye!"

"I'm coming, sir!" he assuringly yelled back. "I really got to go, Kairi. I'll get back to you later about dinner, okay?"

The red head smiled widely at him. "'Course Roxas! I _really_ hope you can come."

He laughed lightly under his breath before turning to rush off to the front desk, muttering under his breath something that sounded like, _"Mr. Riehill is sooo gonna kill me."_

Kairi couldn't help but giggle as she watched the back of the retreating blonde. She sighed when he was gone, crossing her fingers, "Please, please say yes!" she whispered to herself before going back to work arranging magazines and making sure the lobby was in good order.

"Yes, sir?" he breathed out when he finally got to the front desk. _'This hotel is just too big!'_ he couldn't help but think as he adjusted the round, flat hat that graced his spikes.

"Roxas, finally," said the overly tan man, clapping his hands together; his grin was feral.

The blue eyed boy gulped, he hadn't worked here long, but he knew that look on the hotel manger's face could mean nothing good. He could feel his golden eyes boring through him, looking at the inners of soul, searching for any weakness he might utilize. His hair - his perfect, silver hair - was reflecting light so it could momentarily blind Roxas if the man decided to attack. Oh, and his hands! Those flawlessly manicured fingers could turn into claws in a blink of an eye!

"I've got a special job for you," Mr. Riehill continued.

"Oh?" responded Roxas weakly, wondering if he might implode on himself.

"I know you're new, but I think you can handle this. There should be a good tip in it for you too, and you need the money, right?"

Tip? Did someone say tip? Roxas liked tips! Tips made Roxas happy! They were essential for a college student such as himself. Suddenly the universe had been redirected around his boss.

"Tip?" was the only coherent thing he could manage to say in his dazed state of bliss.

The manger let out a hearty chuckle, or it would have been, but that man didn't posses one of those. Roxas knew better than that!

"You see," he began, "there're a couple rising stars in our presence tonight. Well, they're a band actually. From what I heard they're spreading like wild fire. And what would be better publicity than a couple of rock stars? Anyway, their manger, Cid, asked me if I could have one of my employees watch one. He's the lead singer, and I think he plays guitar too... The point is he can be a bit… rambunctious. All you have to do is make sure the kid doesn't do anything that would look bad, and do whatever you have to, to make his stay pleasant. Do you understand?"

Roxas nodded his eyes blank, while in his head _'Tip!'_ was sung merrily.

"If he wants anything, and I mean _anything_, you have to get it for him, Roxas! Don't mess this up, if you do…" The silver haired man took a deep breath and looked down, his eyes more fierce than usual. "You can find yourself a new job."

"Yes sir! Don't worry, sir!" the blonde quickly guaranteed, giving his boss a small salute, his blue eyes as wide as the sea.

The feral grin had crawled back on the other male's face. "Good, but no need to be so formal Roxas. You can call me Xemnas."

It took everything Roxas had to not flinch when he heard the name. It fit all too well… who the hell names their kid Xemnas? Were they _planning_ for him to be an evil villain or something?

"Yes, si- Xemnas."

One of his (secretly clawed) hands rested on the boy's shoulder. "You won't fail me, will you?" he asked, his voice like chocolate; one of those fancy, thick, French ones. But this was more like one of those cheap rip offs, that had that disgusting suppose-to-be-strawberry flavoring in the middle. Roxas hated those; whatever that was, it wasn't strawberry!

"Yes, I mean-No! I mean- I won't fail you!" the blonde babbled out.

Adoring the blonde's confusion, Xemnas pulled out a platinum access card and handed it to Roxas. He looked at it dumbly.

"Bu-but, I already have a master key."

"For most rooms, yes. But this's a room for special guest. We can't just let anyone be able to access it at all times! You think just because someone works at the hotel there aren't a few that are crazed fans of some celebrity or another? There are a lot of people who work at hotels just because they think they can get into a few famous people's rooms."

"O-oh," he replied. How smart of him.

"Now be off! It's on the top floor; the room number is on the key card. Be nice, polite, all that jazz. And try to smooth your clothes down a little! It looks like you were run over by a bus!"

Roxas nodded hurriedly, and rushed off to the "Employees Only" elevator. The doors slid shut behind him, and he had to stand on his tip toes to reach the highest button. Damn his shortness! It wasn't fair that he was twenty-two and the size of a girl in middle school!

Taking off his hat, he ran his fingers through his spikes and took a deep breath. "It's for the money, Roxas. It's for the money. Once you get your degree, you're out of here. Moving on, to bigger, and better, things…"

Remembering what Mr. Riehill had said he looked down his velvet-blue colored uniform; after all, he was meeting a 'Someday Rock Star'. It looked perfectly fine to him, but then again, Xemnas's clothes were ironed so straight you probably couldn't move in them comfortably. He smoothed it down anyways, just to say he had done it, moved the hair out of his eyes, and put back on his stupid hat.

The elevator doors opened, and there he was on the top floor. Roxas had never been there before, but guessing from how Mr. Riehill had made it out, he had imagined something grand. It wasn't. Well, the whole hotel was grand, but Roxas had expected something a little more… _more_ from the top floor, but no! It had to look like every other hallway! How boring…

Stepping out, the only thing he really noticed was there were a lot less doors than most floors (most likely because the suites were bigger). Blah, the carpeting was cleaner; it wasn't used as much. Not as noisy. Roxas even looked up in desperation, there had to be something better about this hallway!

The lighting was completely bug free…

The blonde sighed in defeat and looked down at the silver card._ 'Room 813, here I come!'_

It didn't take him long to find it due to the lack of doors, but he must have stood outside for a good five minutes. What if this singer guy was a snob? What if he was one of those creepy punk kids that had their whole body covered in metal and ink? What if he was convicted murder? What if he had a gun! What if-

Roxas took a deep breath. It was for the tip… rock stars were suppose to give their hotel hands good tips, right?

Nervously, he knocked on the hundred-somthin'-dollar, chestnut door and hoped for the best.

He was met with a chest. No, really, the guy was in such a hurry to open the door he half fell on him. Actually, it was more his stomach then his chest, but for the sake of his height, his forehead just met the man's chest.

Whoever-It-Was quickly moved back. "Oh. My. God. They sent me a munchkin!"

Roxas looked up, up, _up_, at where the voice had come from. If he didn't know better, he would think God was talking to him because voices are just not suppose to come from that high up when you're sane.

Instead of his heavenly father, Roxas was met with a very tall, slender man with some crazy, (most likely dyed,) blazing red, spiked hair that you would expect from a rock star. His eyes were a piercing green, like emeralds meeting flames. His skin was kinda pale, yet not in that sickening way like Roxas's roommate (who was a total geek).

He did have some tattoos and piercings, though. Two teardrops, under his eyes of all places! That had to hurt… He also had a couple silver loops at the tip of his left ear.

Though all this was rather hard to take in… the only thing that really bothered Roxas was his height. The guy must have been two feet taller then him; he was allowed to be intimated!

So there Roxas was, standing in the doorway of the superstar-to-be, staring at him like an idiot, as the man marveled at his… shortness? Well Roxas didn't really know. Maybe he was just staring because he was staring. Maybe it didn't matter. Maybe he should stop. Maybe he was over thinking this too much.

"Damn your eyes are fricken' blue! You could make puppies cry with those things!" the man finally said, and Roxas blinked.

Yes, blinked.

"Umm… are you… wait. They didn't give me your name… auh… band-guy…thingy?"

The red head laughed deeply at the boy's distress. "Great wording man, you make it sound like I'm fresh from dweeb camp."

"Sorry…" Roxas replied, his head going down in shame.

Suddenly he felt an arm on his shoulder. "For the sake of the puppies, don't do that!"

"What?" asked the blonde confused as he looked up at the much taller male.

Ushering him in, Mr. Rock Star explained, "Well, let's put it this way. You're eyes are the kind every girl in America wants. So I suggest you wear sunglass or they'll spoon them out of your head to use. They have like the ultimate power for pouting or something. I'm surprised they haven't got you yet."

"But I need my eyes…" Roxas said sadly. The thought of someone… auh… spooning his eyes out… that sounded painful and just plain eww.

The man chuckled. "So what's your name, kid? Are you even allowed to work here at your age?"

Roxas glared. "I'm twenty-two… and my names Roxas," he said pointing at the golden name tag on his jacket.

One of those red eyebrows arched. "Are you sure? You don't look a day past twelve, _Roxas_."

"If I wouldn't be fired, I would _so_ tackle you right now."

"I'd like to see you try, Short-stuff."

"I'm sure you would, but I would like to be able to go to college this fall, so I won't…"

"Who said I'd tell? I really doubt you could tackle me."

"Of course I can! You might be tall but you're like pole!" As an after though he added, "You have hips like a women."

He smirked. "And they don't lie. Now come on Roxas, I dare you to try to tackle me."

The blonde looked at him oddly. "Are you cereal?"

Realizing what he had just said, his eyes grew wide. "No!" he jumped upward slightly as the man started to break out in laughter; grabbing his stomach, he staggered backward.

"NO! NO! NO! I meant _serious_! Not cereal! No!"

And like that, he jumped on the rock star's back. For a second, it seemed as though time had stood still, and Roxas was higher in the air then he had ever naturally been before. Then the body underneath him wavered, reminding him of the Leaning Tower of Pisa, of all things to think about at the time, and down they went to greet the floor tiles.

"That's not fair," the man said between his outbursts, "You got me while I was hurtin'!"

"I didn't mean- I wasn't planning- I'm just going to shut up now," the blonde stated, quiet flustered. He rolled off the bigger man and sat up, setting the (retarded) hat to the side, trying to fix the mess his hair had now become.

Roxas fanned himself with the headwear, he didn't notice it before, but it was rather warm in here.

Finishing up his little episode, the musician sat up next to him. "Sorry 'bout that. I know it's really f-ing hot. Demyx felt like being an ass last night and put the heater on full blast. Nearly roasted my goose. I put the AC on now, but it's a big room so it takes a while."

Looking over he saw… wait, he still didn't get the guy's name! But 'the guy' was only wearing a black, armless shirt and a pair of dark purple boxers. Hun, the things stars wear when they're alone… or with short blonde guys…?

"Umm, do I get a name?" Roxas finally asked, wishing his uniform wasn't so thick.

The jade eyes looked at him baffled, "I don't know… I thought you were Roxas… umm… 'Man Slave'?"

Roxas really wanted lazar beams to come out of his eyes right about now because ya' know, that would be awesome. "I meant _your_ name, dumb ass!"

"Oh!" he answered merrily, resembling someone who had just won the lottery. "Axel Lorenzo Al Rodiact."

Roxas huffed, "Axel? Like cars? That's almost as bad as my dad's…"

The now known Axel looked at him bemused, "What do ya' mean?"

"Grandma and Grandpa Strife were into the whole hippie thing when he was born…"

"Oh my god, is his name like Sunshine or something?" the singer question, looking like he would burst any second.

"…Cloud."

"Cloud?" Axel question skeptically.

"Cloud." confirmed Roxas sheepishly, trying not to meet the man's eyes.

"What's your dad look like?"

"Auh…" Roxas mumbled thinking, "Imagine… me, except, about half a foot taller, more muscular, slightly pointer spiked hair, and really angst-y and you have my father."

Axel frowned, "So he's not fluffy and soft?"

"Defiantly not! Well… not with me. Maybe to mom, but… she's mom. And my sister… not that he's mean to me. He just doesn't try to hug you to death." Roxas explained, itching the back of his head, god it was hot…

As though to remind him of the heat further the red head pointed out that his cheeks were pink.

"Not my fault it's like a sauna in here." grumbled the blonde.

"You could take off your jacket." Axel reasoned.

"It's uniform… my manger will have a fit."

"And who's gonna know but me? If he asks I'll tell him I ordered you."

"That's the stupidest order ever."

"I'm on my way to fame; I'm allowed to be ridicules," responded the red head, his hands animated all the while.

"True…" and with that Roxas took off the horribly hot coat and pulled his white dress shirt out from his pants. It felt about ten degrees cooler suddenly and he could not be any more grateful. Unless… maybe if Axel gave him that big fat tip… but other then that, yeah.

"So, Man Slave-"

"Don't you dare call me that again…"

Axel ruffled his hair, "Sure, whatever you say. But…there's something I need to know. Are you any good at cooking?"

Slinging his arm around the blonde, Axel guided him to the enormous bed to the very left of the equally enormous room.

The randomness of the question puzzled Roxas, but he nodded.

"Make me something." commanded the red head as he plopped down on the mattress.

"Dude, you're in a five star hotel; there's room service!" the shorter boy rationalized. "Plus it's scorching hot in here and unless you brought groceries with you, the pantries here are empty."

Shifting so he was on his stomach, the red head looked up at the canopy of the bed, appearing to be thinking. "Could we get someone to bring stuff here?"

The golden haired boy looked at the singer curiously. He looked nervous, on edge, even twitchy, but about what Roxas did not know. "Axel?"

"Aug…long story. But I get really freaked out when I can't see the food being cooked… I'm horrible at restaurants…" the man laughed anxiously.

"Um, okay… I'll see what I can do." Roxas quickly headed for the phone, pushing in the extension for the front desk. It only rung once before it was answered.

_"Yes? This's Xemnas Riehill speaking from the front desk. May I help you?"_

"Hello Mr. Riehill, I was hoping-"

_"Oh, Roxas! I trust we aren't having any trouble up there…?"_ Roxas doubted that, from the way his manger said it, he more than anything wanted something to yell at him for.

"Uh, no sir-"

_"I told you to call me Xemnas, remember?"_ This time Roxas did flinch when he heard the name.

"Yes… Xemnas. I was just wondering if I could get some food for Axel…"

_"Why didn't you just call room service then?"_ the silver haired man sounded annoyed.

"Not… that kind of food… he wants… to have food brought up here and I make it."

_"Does he not think my chef's here are capable of-?"_

"You said _whatever_ he wanted, sir," reminded the attendant.

A sigh was heard on the other line. When Mr. Riehill finally spoke he sounded perplexed, _"What does he want?"_

Holding the mouth piece away from him, the blonde turned to the lounging vocalist. "What do you want?" he echoed his boss.

Axel shrugged, "Whatever you're best at making I guess. I'm not picky… just as long as I don't have to wait forever for it."

"Auh, yeah. Could I get pasta, garlic, cream, cheese… pots? I don't know… angel hair. Thanks Xemnas, sir. Goodbye." Flinching once more, he enthusiastically hung up the phone.

"Foood." groaned Axel, hugging one of the pillows to his head.

"You're acting like a starved cat." muttered Roxas from under his breath.

Suddenly Axel was staring at him, much like he had at the door way. It was kinda weird for him to know someone was watching him, though it wasn't really uncomfortable… he just wasn't use to it. Was there something on his face? Was he all sweaty? That wasn't that surprising, it was boiling in there. Was there something on his mind? Did he just happen to zone out while looking at Roxas and wasn't really staring at him at all? Again, was Roxas thinking too much?

At last when he decided to break the silence, the red head asked, "Have you ever laid on one of these beds?"

"I'm usually just a bellhop so… no."

Shifting back and forth, Axel looked down at the satin cloth that decked the huge bed. "You should." he said simply. He looked like he was about to say more, but a knock on the door decided to interrupt the singer, making him clamp his jaw shut.

Roxas went to answer the door and came back with a bag full of ingredients and other… cooking things that Axel knew how to use but had no idea what the hell they were actually called. (Besides the pots, yeah, he knew what those were.)

"Anything else before I start, master?" asked the blonde impassively.

Axel pretended to think, swinging his feet to and fro in the air, "No, I think that's it for now, my little slave. Get to work!" The red head made a gesture as to dismiss him and moved so he could watch what Roxas was doing on the other side of the room.

He observed as the blonde lay all the ingredients on the counter top. He examined him as he set the pots near the stove. He inspected him as he turned the stove on to warm the pot up a bit. He watched as Roxas took of his shirt… wait. Wait one minute… something did not fit in all this… but what? Auh! Roxas should have put water in the pot first, it would have made more sense… wait, no that wasn't it… oh… shirt being… taken off body.

"Wahoo! Take it off Rox!" he whooped. In response, the boy looked at him as though he just tried to run him over with a bus. He frowned at Axel and grumbled something about not wanting his uniform stained.

"Au-Hun, sure." Axel couldn't help but give him a smug grin.

"I'm still wearing a shirt." he said, pointing out his dark blue tank top.

"We'll see how long that lasts." sighed Axel with great humor.

"Yes, because my life goal has always secretly been to be a stripper." Roxas stated sarcastically.

"You aren't that good," Axel admitted, scrunching his nose, "You drag it on for too long, it's aggravating. Tease."

Rolling his eyes, the blonde tied the white dress shirt around his waist, and filled a pot with water. It sizzled as it came in contact with the hot stove top, making hot steam hit his face.

Honestly, Axel had planned on bothering Roxas more while he was cooking, but now it seemed like he couldn't even talk. He could only watch. It didn't seem to bother the spiky haired kid too much, though. He had only turned to the red head once, after he had put in the long, thin strands of pasta. His face was flushed from heat and he seemed so at ease; calm.

Roxas's demeanor was different when he cooked, Axel realized. He suddenly wasn't some adolescent who was just making it in the world. He knew what he was doing and how, with efficacy. Axel admired that, because when it came to cooking… he wasn't exactly bad at it… he just wasn't good either.

Twenty minutes of slaving over a hot stove in a too hot room, Roxas gave Axel his dinner; he accepted it happily after ordering Roxas to get some for himself. He felt funny being the only one eating…

Slurping up the pasta like a vacuum cleaner, Axel patted the free space beside him on the bed. Roxas sat on the edge, back straight, playing with the food more than anything. He stared into the mass of food emotionlessly, until the sound of the red head's voice made him look up half-surprised.

"Where'd you learn how to cook?"

"Oh! Um… my mom. It was the rules when we were little. If you weren't working, sick, or anything else of importance you helped cook or you didn't eat." explained Roxas twisting the food around his fork and eating it.

"A little harsh, hun?" Axel asked, tilting his head to the side.

The attendant shook his head, "No, it was fun. It's something all us kids liked doing, and it taught us something useful I guess."

Chuckling, Axel continued his meal, "So is that what you want to do, cook?"

"No. I'm getting a degree in writing…"

"What 'cha write?" inquired the vocalist.

"This and that… nothing that great, but I get pretty good grades so… maybe I'll do… I really don't know." admitted the shorter boy.

Finishing his meal, the fire haired boy stretched over the side of the bed and left his plate there. He laid his head on the bed and shut his eyes, moaning slightly. "Roxas… you have to lie on this thing."

Roxas only responded by rolling his eyes in a good natured way.

"No… I'm serious. I've never laid on a bed so fluffilious…"

"Fluffilous?" Roxas wondered questionably at Axel's words.

"Shut up! The bed is making me say weird things. Now lay on the dumb thing before I decide to make you do something stupid… like lick the outside of the building clean…"

"You can't do that!" protested the blonde.

Axel stretched his arm out, trying to grasp something. "Hand me the phone and I'll see what I can do," he challenged, his words were hushed somewhat by the mattress.

"Fine. I'll lie on your damn mattress, happy?"

"Not until you do it," was his muffled reply.

Sighing, Roxas kicked out of his shoes as to not soil the bed and set them neatly beside it. He moved over more so he was closer to Axel, brought his feet up, and laid down opposite the headboard as the red haired boy had done.

"Axel…?"

"Yeah?"

"I can't move!" the flax haired male groaned. It felt too good to be real. Like… almost better than an orgasm. The bed shaped to his body, and the blankets were just too silky for someone like him to comprehend._ 'Rich people have it good… too good,'_ he thought as he grabbed at the pillow Axel had abandoned and hugged it to himself. "I can die happy now."

"Told you," taunted the rock star who had made an effort to lift his head from the all godly mattress.

"When did you say I'd die happy?" retorted the blonde.

Stealing the pillow from his grasp, Axel clonked him over the head with it.

"Owe!" Roxas cried out, annoyed.

"You're such a girl, Rox. That could not have hurt," stated Axel skeptically.

"Does it look like I'm wearing a mini skirt and lip balm?" snapped Roxas.

Somehow pushing himself up from the mighty wonderfulness that was hotel sleep furnishings, Axel examined the blonde's irritated, pouting face. The corners of his face soon turned upward in a wide, Cheshire Cat grin.

"You will be." he finally said, quickly getting up and heading towards the phone.

"Wait- what! What are you gonna make me do! Wear drag?"

As he looked over the numbers given by the hotel, the singer's smirk seemed to double in size. "That's exactly what I'm going to do."

"Bu-bu-but-"

But it was too late. The phone was ringing and Axel was thinking of evil things to make him wear. Roxas's life was over. He took it back about dying happy. This was a horrible, mortifying way to end it… in women's garb. And he hadn't even written his will! Or his first book for that matter! And wasn't this suppose to be the part where his past life flashed before his eyes? Or was that only drowning… or was it suicide? He didn't know anymore!

As though sealing his fate, he heard the phone being placed on the receiver. He hadn't even noticed Axel saying anything… did that mean no one was there? He was home free! No, no, that couldn't be, because the red head's stupid grin was still in place.

"They'll be here in a minute." he assured.

And sooner rather than later, there was knock on the door. Slowly, as sloth like as he could manage, Roxas made his way to it. Axel leaned beside it smiling like a psycho the whole time.

Opening the door the blonde saw something he hadn't expected… or more like, someone.

"Ka-Kairi!" he stuttered out, his eyes wide with shock.

"Roxas! You're working up here? No wonder I couldn't find you! I was so worried at first… I thought Mr. Riehill had fired you! But that would be weird because you never do anything wrong, but then again Mr. Riehill isn't very nice. But, anyways… I have this for Mr. Al Rodiact." the girl spoke too fast, everything coming out of her mouth was hitting Roxas's intelligence like a tsunami, leaving the poor boy in disarray.

"You can just call me Axel." a voice from the side said. Turning his head, Roxas remembered Axel was still there.

Kairi squealed in what seemed like approval and handed him a set of women's clothes on a hanger covered in thick, protective black plastic.

She was just about to turn away when she stopped dead in her tracks. "Oh, Roxas! What about dinner?"

It took a few seconds to get her meaning until it hit him, and he slapped his forehead. "Dang! I'm sorry Kai, Xemnas-"

"Who?" asked Kairi bewilderedly.

"Auh… Mr. Riehill switched my days last week, remember?" Roxas couldn't help but give Axel a sideways glance, he wasn't sure about the guy hearing this sort of thing, but he did not interrupt. Instead he watched, seemingly disinterested, but that scared Roxas more for some reason.

"Oh, phooey!" exclaimed the girl, frowning.

Giving her a sympathetic smile the blonde said, "I'm sure we'll find another free day."

"Hope so…" she said meekly, staring at the floor. "By the way… why aren't you wearing your uniform?"

Blushing, the blonde started to close the door. "It's a long story." he said before shutting it completely. Roxas gave a sigh of relief leaning on the doorframe.

He thought he might jump out of his skin went he felt the hot breath on his neck, "That your girlfriend?"

Turning to face the other boy Roxas's blush deepened, "No!"

"You like her?" questioned the singer, his face devoid of emotion.

"I don't really know her that well. I just met her two weeks ago when I got this job. She seems nice enough though."

"She certainly likes you."

"Well, yeah. I guess so…"

The man laughed mockingly, "Could it be any more obvious? So what are you going to do about her?"

"_Do_ about her? I don't know, go to dinner with her?" shrugged the blonde.

"She's got a weird vibe about her…" he snorted.

"Why don't we change the subject?" suggested Roxas warily.

All of a sudden Axel's face lit up like a beacon. "Auh, yes of course! These are for you."

Axel handed over the black hanging bag and Roxas could not help but gawk at it. "You can't be serious."

The crimson haired boy smirked. "Don't you mean 'cereal'?"

"Shut up! What's inside of it?" he asked down heartedly. Why couldn't it have been clear plastic?

Axel pushed him in the general direction of what Roxas guessed was the bathroom. It was obvious Axel was going to have quiet the show. "You'll see… and you have to put on _everything_ that's in the bag. I'll know if you don't." he warned merrily.

Blue eyes darted from the taller male, to the open bathroom door, and back again. "Go on, Roxas." cheered Axel.

Scowling, he stomped into the restroom and slammed the door shut for good measure. He might be mad, but the singer looked like a kid on Christmas morning.

A screech came from behind the door, making it hard for the musician to hold back his laughter.

"How do you expect me to wear…?" the young hotel hand asked embarrassedly from behind the door.

"Just like you would wear any other clothes."

"But…"

"Like I said, I'll know if you didn't put something on…"

"This isn't fair…" cried the boy.

"Life isn't fair Roxas, so get with the program and put them on."

It was silent for a good ten minutes after that, and Axel was starting to think the kid had found a razor somewhere and had killed himself so he wouldn't have to go through with it. Just to make sure he banged on the door. "Yo, Rox, you done yet?"

"I'm not coming out…" whimpered the voice.

"Yes you are." Axel stated confidently.

"I look weird…" the blonde tried.

"That is the center of the amusement right there. What would be the point otherwise?"

"I don't know… you have weird fetishes?"

The red head boomed, his laughter like a pounding drum. "That I do, but you don't need to know about them."

"Okay, I'm defiantly not coming out now…" Roxas declared; frightened.

"What if I have to pee?"

"I'm not the maid, I don't care. You can piss all over the floor. I won't have to clean it up."

The performer sighed, "Just come out, okay? It can't be that bad, and you wouldn't want to let your boss down, would you?"

A groan was heard, followed by some other odd sounds that must have been the boy mentally fighting with himself… and then the door creaked open. Just the slightest, smallest little bit; but it was open.

Slowly, so very turtle-slow that it was almost unbearable, it opened to reveal a most delicate creature.

She was rather short, as some girls were, though her black, crisscrossed high heals gave her a couple inches. She clearly didn't wear them that often because she seemed to feel awkward in them. The skin of her legs was a bit creamier then the rest of her; most likely she was afraid to show her legs too. Her skirt was short, also black, going a little above her knees, and sometimes when she staggered in her shoes in just a way you could see red, silk, undergarments. Her off-white shirt was plain, but it frilled somewhat at the her elbows where the arms ended and at the bottom, giving her a simple elegance. Silver bangles clinked at her wrists and a plain black strip of martial ran across her neck. The girl's hair was blonde with streaks of almost brown here and there; it was a bit messy, short, and spiked upward in places, but looked nice on her. Her eyes were big and blue, too blue. The kind of blue that could make a man fall to his knees and beg if need be. They contrasted nicely with the very visible blush that had covered her face.

Axel decided he thought she was pretty.

Pretty-Girl was making her way towards him nervously, trying her hardest not to fall on her little ass. She was rather thin though, with not much of a chest, and very small hips. When Pretty-Girl looked him in the eye her face darkened even more, and he couldn't help but smile. It must have startled her, because she lost her footing and fell forward, hitting his chest and clutching to his shirt in fear of descending any further. Axel peered down at her, running his eyes over her… he liked her underwear.

"S-sorry, Axel." she stuttered.

The red head blinked, he had just realized something; a couple things, actually. Pretty-Girl wasn't a girl at all, she was a boy. A Roxas, to be more precise.

Roxas, who was a boy, and therefore probably never wore high heals, was not suppose to have boobs, or much of hips for that matter (Axel was an exception), whose eyes shouldn't be pretty, and make you want to do whatever the owners of those eyes say. Who he shouldn't think pretty (unless sarcastically). Whose underwear he shouldn't be staring at…

If he had thought of it more he might have found the whole thing a bit odd, but he didn't think about it, so he didn't find it weird at all.

In conclusion, he realized: Roxas was too good at pulling off drag.

Roxas tried to straighten himself without falling, using Axel's arms when need be until she- _he_ found a way that _he_ wouldn't topple over.

Sudden banging on the door brought Roxas back down on the becoming-ever-more-familiar chest. Without thought he slung an arm around the other's shoulder and turned his head to the door.

"Who is it?" he called.

"It's me!" replied an overly exaggerated, high pitched voice.

"And I." added another, more monotonous voice.

"Come on in guys, the door's open."

"Wait! No, Axel!" the blonde hissed anxiously.

Not understanding, the vocalist did nothing but stare into the boy's eyes. Shiny…

"Hey, dude! You'll never believe what me and Zex- Oh… did we disrupt something?" said one of the voices from before. Slowly, wide eyed, Roxas turned to see a blonde man a little bit shorter then Axel. His hair was… something Roxas had never seen before! It was some weird cross between a mohawk and a mullet… or something like that. He was smiling brightly at the two of them suggestively. Wait… what?

Realizing their sudden position, Roxas tried to push Axel off, only to find himself nearly kissing the floor if it weren't for the red heads arm.

"You suck in heels, Rox." commented the singer smugly.

"You shouldn't insult your… female friend, Axel." The other man, the shortest besides Roxas himself. His demeanor was more serious than the other's and his hair was streaked with blue and purple.

Roxas's face decided to light up like the Forth of July, and he somehow managed to stomp his foot successfully without falling. "I'm not a girl!"

The two boys seemed taken back for a moment at seeing his… true gender. Then the blonde one seemed to get excited about something and hopped over to his other side. The shorter of the two blondes gave a questionable look.

"I always wanted to meet a drag queen!" he explained, clapping his hands together cheerfully. "Nice underwear, by the way." he whispered with a smirk, not doing any good for Roxas's blush.

The mature one coughed loudly, "Your greatest apologizes, madam-I mean, _sir_…I mean… what I am trying to say is I'm sorry for my companion's… excessive boldness. He doesn't think before he speaks. He is… incompetent."

"Oh, he doesn't mind Zex! He probably gets it all the time, right- what was your name again? Rod… Ros…Rox? Yes, Rox! Roxy! Yeah, Roxy doesn't mind." The man said overly happy, clamping Roxas over his shoulder, almost making him fall again. 'Zex' frowned and shook his head.

"I'm going to kill you Axel." the shorter blonde said through gritted teeth.

The red head shrugged, half-smiling. "I don't think your boss would like that."

"Oooh! Who's your boss!" The hyper guy asked.

"I work at the hotel." Roxas droned.

"You can get cross dressers at hotels? Why wasn't I offered one? I want a Roxy too!" whined the man.

Axel was trying his hardest to restrain his laughter, but it didn't stop the gleeful look that had plastered itself to his face. "No, Dem… you don't understand."

"Understand what?"

"Roxy-auh, Roxas isn't really a cross dresser."

"I don't know if we're looking at the same person here, Axe, but if I am correct Roxy is wearing girls clothes and is, in fact, a boy. If there is not a better definition of a cross dresser I don't know what is. I mean, his legs are even shaved."

At the last sentence, Axel back tracked, looking down at his 'slave's' legs. They were, in fact, hairless. "They are, aren't they? You shave your legs Rox?"

"No! I'm just don't have that much hair… I get it from my dad…same with my sibling!" the boy tried to explain in distress.

"It's okay, we don't care if you're a cross dresser Roxy! You don't have to hide it!" assured Dem.

"I'm not a cross dresser! It is entirely his fault!" screamed Roxas in frustration, pointing at the singer. "And my name is not Roxy, it's Roxas! Roxas! R-O-X-A-S! Okay?"

With that, he pushed the now shocked man off of him and wobbly stomped off to lie on the bed.

"I didn't mean to…" Dem said quietly, but could not put anything into words.

Zex sighed, and shook his head, making a motion to go apologize to the poor non-cross-dressing-boy. Slowly Dem stepped forward, followed by a glare from the oddly-colored haired man, directed at Axel. 'You too.' it clearly seethed.

When they reached the bed, Roxas appeared too busy making curses under his breath to notice them. He lay there, pouting, his arms crossed, his hair messier then before. His face was flushed with anger, his eyes fiery. His shirt was beginning to wrinkle, his arms were crossed. One of the boy's legs was bent upward, while the other rested on the top of the right's knee, the heel of the high heel was just coming off, and the tiniest bit of underwear showed from between his legs. The cream colored sheets were creased and pillows scattered around him at random.

The two men stared for a what seemed like an eternity. Then they looked up at each other, as though that said it all.

"Where's the camera?" Axel finally whispered hurriedly.

"In Zex's bag on my bed." replied Demyx.

Both male's turned to the fourth, who was still standing patiently near the door. "Zexion! Get your camera, like now! Run man, run! Run like there's only one ticket left to a Disturbed concert!"

Zexion in turn gave them odd looks, but complied, rushing off to the get the object. It seemed to take forever, and both men became twitchy and jumpy, afraid Roxas might move. He never did though, too wrapped up in being mad to do much of anything else.

When Zexion finally returned, Demyx quickly grabbed the camera out of his hands, and rushed back to Axel and the blonde kid.

Flash.

Flash. Flash. Flash.

At last coming out of his rage enough to notice something was going on, Roxas sat up.

"What are you guys doing?"

A beep was heard from the electronic device that Axel and his friend were hovering over, staring intently at. "Pictures," they offered robotically.

The young male huffed at the pair and focused on pulling off his high heals, those things hurt like hell after a while!

"If you took any pictures of me you better fucking delete them!"

"Donn't worry your pretty little head about that."

Roxas mumbled to himself, something about how everyone just had to be ass holes, when he realized he was cold; the AC had finally started to kick in.

* * *

Axel, Demyx, Zexion, (as he had at last learned their actual names,) and their manger, Cid, left the next morning. Axel had no intention of taking back the clothes, so Roxas took them home, and after washing and ironing them, gave them to Kairi as a gift (excluding the undergarments. he disposed of those in the dumpster before he got home). She had been delighted, though she wondered if she had sen them somewhere before… must have been a magazine, right?

As it turned out, Axel did leave a pretty good tip. A few more like that and he'd be all set for college come fall. But as it was, Xemnas gave him no more 'special jobs' and he was back to the life of a simple, non-cross-dressing, bellhop.

The Friday after the band's departure (he found out they were called 'Distorted Kink'), he went on that dinner with Kairi. Nothing fancy, but for a simple boy who had a simple life, who wasn't anything special like a rock star, it was nice. Like Kairi, nice. Nothing extraordinary, nothing exceptional, just nice.

About three weeks went by and all was right. Everything ordinary. Everything simple. Everything nice.

That is, until an odd man came to The Destiny Hotel.

A stretch limo pulled up to the front of the building, and as had become routine, Roxas made a move to take their bags, but was shocked to find they had none. Shrugging he opened the door for a tall man with long, pink hair, and a blonde women whose hair resembled antennas. They both wore black; the woman a shortcut dress, the man some dress slacks and shirt; thick sunglasses covered their eyes, though it was becoming rapidly darker.

The pair waltzed flawlessly over to the front desk were Xemnas sat scribbling god-knows-what. As his head raised he seemed to glow. "The great Marluxia Cornet and the ever beautiful Larxene Nish, how may I help you? We have a few open rooms you might be-"

"Actually, we're looking for someone." the pink haired man explained.

Xemnas appeared puzzled, "There's no one that I know of that you are acquainted with staying here, sir."

"We don't know him actually, and he's not rooming here. He's an employee." the women explained, adjusting her light defying spectacles.

Even more intrigued Xemnas nodded, brows raised. "What's the boy's name?"

"Rox- there he is!" Marluxia exclaimed happily at a short, blonde bellhop, who had been talking to a smiling red haired girl. His head turned, and he stared wide eyed at the pointed finger. He approached cautiously.

"Auh, may I help you sir?" he asked politely.

"Are you Roxas? Why of course it's you! I'd know that face anywhere." the man gushed.

The blonde boy blinked up at him, "Umm… I'm not like some lost cousin of yours or something, am I?" he asked hesitantly, the guy freaked him out.

The rose haired man waved him off cheerfully. "No, no, silly boy! Haven't you heard of me? I must be in sextillion magazines."

Sextillion was a real number?

"Oh, um… I don't really read magazines, sorry. I'm pretty much just trying to save up for college," he revealed, blushing at his ignorance.

"Well you can forget about college! You have bigger and better things to do!"

Roxas eyes bulged, "Bu-bu, I have to go to college! I've got to be able to help out my family! Get a good job and all."

"Don't worry about that, Roxas, or should I say Roxy? I'm here to give you the best job offer you'll ever get!"

If this guy was trying to get him to be a stripper…

"You're gonna be a model, kiddo!" said the women, smirking and patting him roughly on the back.

"Wha-what! A model? What are you talking about? I know nothing about modeling! I don't even know how you found me, but if this's someone's idea of a joke-"

Marluxia shook his head rapidly, "No, no joke! I got a picture of you from a friend of mine and knew you were perfect!"

"What picture?" he asked doubtfully.

"This one." With a grin, the pink haired man pulled out a picture of him on the bed in Axel's suite… in the clothes Axel had made him wear.

"I think you've made a mistake…" he chocked out. How did he get that picture Who…?

"I don't."

"I don't usually dress like that! I-it was a dare… sorta. I-"

"When you're modeling it doesn't matter what you wear, you've just got to make it look good," clarified Larxene.

"Well, thank you and all, but I don't think I'm cut out for that sort of thing."

"We'll teach you, don't worry," assured Marluxia.

"It's just- no. I'm sorry, but I've already planned my career, and it has nothing to do with modeling. The offer is really flattering, but no." The boy tried to be stern, but he felt his voice waver a few times.

Marluxia's eyes became cold an he leaned down, coming close to Roxas's face. "Oh? Did you know something Roxas? Colleges won't always accept… "unruly" children. If they happen to see this photo, do you really think they'd let you back? And even if they did, how do you think the students will act? Some are very… aggressive about that kind of thing."

Roxas flinched, was this guy… blackmailing him? He couldn't believe this!

"I…"

"Let me make this simple for you. You can either chose to become a model, thus dropping out of college for fame and millions that could easily sustain your family, or you can refuse, have this photo spread, be shunned from every college and possibly any employment. I wonder which you will chose…" Larxene said with an icy smirk.

"Like I really have a choice…" he groaned.

"So it's a deal? Yes! I have the paperwork in the limo for us to discuss," Marluxia exclaimed, suddenly going back to the cheerful person he was moments ago. He was a bit bipolar, in Roxas's mind.

"I'm still at work." And for the first time, Roxas was grateful for this.

"Don't worry about that! Xemy! Hi, we're stealing Roxas from you! Mail him his last check and take him off the payroll, he's mine now!"

The hotel manger looked shocked, confused, dazed, but he nodded at the man's words. "O-of course, Marluxia! As you wish… and I hope you stop again!" he said guardedly. If this guy could take advantage of someone like Mr. Riehill… he really was someone to be reckoned with!

An arm was looped around him by both people as they dragged him of to magnificence, and away from his nice, normal life.

"You'll thank me latter." Marluxia guaranteed him

He really doubted it…

* * *

June 21, 2011: Ok so I'm having this junk beta-ed. ;D I changed a few minor things as well. The point is I'm updating this! Sadly I don't have much writing mojo, but I really want to get the third chapter out for you guys before I go to Scotland! D: And what sucks the most is that three is kinda a boring/messy chapter at the moment. Please bare with me though. c: I love you guys!


	2. Chapter 2

Five Star Experience

By: Imorb

**WARNING!** This story contains: cross-dressing, blackmail, sex, rape, not-so-awesome original songs, mental break downs, shone-ai (yaoi, boy/boy, whatever you want to call it), impulsive red heads, incorrect wording, hairless-ness of pubic parts (O_o), cooking maniacs, overly hyper guitarists, sensible drummers, bunny rabbits (auh), and a whole 'fuck it' mentality.

* * *

Chapter Two

Though he thought Marluxia, or 'Marly' as he had been asked to be called, (they were working together now, after all) would give him some kind of heinous contract that would ensure the man his soul, he was actually quite nice about the whole thing. He took the time for Roxas to examine the documents, ask questions, and was civilized when it came to making changes.

Roxas guessed he just didn't get denied often. He was famous, so it wasn't too out there to think.

Or maybe he saw some kind of 'hidden potential' that Roxas supposedly didn't see. Who knows?

Marluxia was in fact, very famous. He owned a huge company called 'La Rose' that modeled all kinds of clothes, of any brand, heard of or not, that came from any where in the world (…or space). Marluxia didn't care too much about the money; he just modeled things he liked.

Either he must have had great taste, or he was too rich to care any more, because Roxas wasn't sure how you could make money like that…

Besides that, the pink haired man designed his own line of clothes, jewelry, perfumes, and cosmetics. And to top that all off, he owned a small flower store back in Cali.

"We'll talk more over dinner." he promised, smiling brightly at the little blonde who only nodded in response.

Marluxia's friend, Larxene, was one of his models. The women had worked with Marly since the beginning of his career and it didn't look like she was going anywhere anytime soon. She was always smirking in a cold way that was intimidating to Roxas, and when she spoke it was usually with a tone of dark pleasure or sarcasm. He didn't like her very much…

But there were more pressing matters on the blonde's mind…

The picture; who had given him the _picture_? This couldn't be happening! Unless…

Suddenly, the cherry haired man snapped his fingers, knocking the blonde out of his thoughts. "Drat, I forgot you're still in your uniform."

Roxas looked down; he was indeed in his old uniform, stupid hat and all. "Yeah, is it… a problem?" he asked.

His new employer frowned, "You can't go to dinner like that! MARTIN!" he called, Roxas assumed to the driver, whose head turned just the slightest to Marluxia. "Bring us to the closest clothes store of any quality, and step on it! We have reservations to make."

"I don't really have any money on me…" admitted Roxas, who was waved off by his new boss.

"Don't worry your pretty little head about that, Rox! You can get whatever you want; consider it a welcoming gift." the man's white teeth almost looked pointed for a moment as he handed the boy his credit card (it had probably just been the lighting).

Roxas stared at the platinum colored card in shock. He had never had a credit card. His father had told him that eventually they'd come back to bite you in the butt, so it was best to only handle money that you could physically see and touch. Mr. Strife was a smart business man, contrary to what his name might have one assume, so Roxas had listen to his parent's words like they were spoken from the divine spirit.

"I don't know what to say… how can I repay you?" his blues eyes looked widely at the older man.

He laughed, "Make me the big bucks, kid. It's not that big of a deal really, it's just some clothes."

Before he could protests further, the vehicle stopped in front of a small store with assorted manikins in the windows displayed their wears.

Stepping out of the limo, Roxas made his way into the store.

He made sure to buy the simplest, cheapest thing he could find. Owing any money to someone like Marluxia probably had it's downsides.

Coming out of the changing room he wore an arm length white dress that was similar to his uniform one except a more starched white. Tight jeans (they didn't have his size,) hugged his sides and went right under the heal of his shoes, just the way he liked it.

He threw his old uniform in the shopping bag that had been given to him and found a certain pink haired man scanning the racks. "Never know when you might _find _something…" he said more to himself then anyone else. He only turned to face the blonde when he tapped his shoulder.

"Your card," explained Roxas shyly, handing it to him.

Smiling, Marluxia pocketed it and gave Roxas quite the look over. "It'll do." he announced after some time; taking the boy's hand, they were off again.

Dinner had been at a fancy Italian restaurant, the name of which Roxas could only dream of ever pronouncing. Again he got the smallest, least expensive thing he could get.

Larxene seemed to notice his lack of appetite because she commented on him starving himself. "Just cause you're gonna be a model you don't have to fret about it. Plus, it's the girls that have to worry about that more. It doesn't matter if a _guy _gains ten pounds. I don't think it would kill _you _if you did, you're skin and bone."

Blushing he replied, "That's not it at _all_."

She didn't believe him, and went on eating her garlic knots; oh well, don't believe him then.

Larxene explained what modeling meant for him. Waking up early, getting makeup pounded on to him, clothes poked and pinned to him, posing, eyes burning from camera flashes, and staying legit in the public's eyes (smoking, drugs, crimes, bad; drinking to a minimum).

Marluxia explained what was going to happen now. He was going to whisk the blonde off to California with him. Roxas would take a basic modeling class for a week or so, and then… his first shoot. They'd see where it went from there.

Tensing, he looked down at the soup he had gotten. "What exactly am I…" he had to ask, he _had _to.

"Yes?"

He gulped, "What are you going to have me model?"

"Clothes, I suppose." Marluxia answered simply, as though this obvious.

Sighing, the blonde shook his head, "What I mean is… are you going to have me in drag?"

Larxene snorted with laughter at the boy's question; Marluxia on the other hand was a bit more serene. "Possibly," he answered, taking a deep gulp of the red whine that had been sitting in his glass, untouched.

"What!"

"As Larxene said before, all that matters is making the clothes look good. And I'll tell you, _you make them look __**good**_." With another gulp the whine was gone. "And I'm not sure if you _can_ model men's clothing."

"I don't know about this…"

"Roxas, did your family ever struggle when you were little?' questioned the man.

Out of habit, Roxas itched at the back of his neck, "It wasn't _easy_, for a while mom worked two jobs, and dad was never home, but we got through."

"Wouldn't you want them to have a good life? Maybe retire early?'

"Yeah… and I'd want Sora to go to a good college and help Namine with art school…" he said quietly, almost a whisper as he though out loud to himself.

"And you can do all that! You just have to wear a skirt or two, or… hundred. Don't you think they're worth it?"

"Of course! But how well do you think this whole thing will catch on? I may not read magazines, but I would think I would notice if cross dressing models suddenly became popular."

"True blue, Roxy. No, it's not exactly popular in the wide spread media, but that's how I know it's gonna work! You're going to be something different, _new_, and people are going notice you because of it."

"I'm not so sure I like the sounds of that…" he confessed.

"All publicity is good publicity! And people can't shun you for being good. Well, maybe a few, but there's _always _a few. That's what bodyguards are for. " Interjected Larxene snidely. "You may also consider taking karate; good for the mind and figure."

After that Roxas decided to clam up a bit and mull everything over while Marluxia and Larxene talked about… texture design? Lighting angles? Something… fashiony.

Roxas knew he was going to need an aspirin when he got home (which he should have already been like an hour ago). The poor, poor boy had a horrible habit. He thought too much.

Now some people would not see anything wrong with thinking that much, some would even not believe there _was_ such a thing as thinking too much (puh, teachers), but there was. Roxas hated himself for it; he thought of every possible outcome for any satiation, all at once, like some super-genius-FBI-computer. It wasn't very good for stress levels, and usually left him moody; one of the things he wish he hadn't inherited from his father.

It's bad enough for most people to take things in when their lives suddenly have a huge turn around, but for Roxas it would be considered painful. It mentally hurt him, and if he didn't distract himself soon enough he might make himself sick; he'd done it before.

He must have been thinking especially hard because he was suddenly being pulled back into the limo. Another problem with his excessive thinking; at times he would seem to almost 'blackout' from what his body was doing. Sometimes it came in handy, like when he had to get to class and he was still thinking, his body would bring him on time and do his notes as though programmed. But it still worried him… what if someone tried to mug him when he was in that state? He lived in New York City for Pete's sake!

Blinking, he tried to snap out of it, Marluxia was talking again.

"So tell the family, pack your bags, and I'll pick you up at nine o' clock, bright an' early in two days. Oh, and what street do you live on?"

"Fi-fifth." he stuttered, still in a bit of a daze.

"You hear that Martin? Fifth, on the double!" called the pink haired male as he took out a pen from his pocket. Roxas couldn't help but notice it… it was flaming hot pink with light pink bunny faces on it, smiling at any unlucky soul that happen to come in its overly sugary, cute radius.

Its ink was even pink, Roxas saw when Marluxia handed him a scrap of paper with the word '_Marly' _on it in swirling, elegant handwriting with a phone number underneath it.

"If something happens; someone dies, hospital, ect, and you just _have _to stay for a few extra days you can give me a call. Or if you have questions, or whatever, but we have a whole plane ride for that."

"We're approaching Fifth, sir."

"My apartment's right over there." Roxas said gesturing to the complex building.

"Pull over, Martin. Oh, Roxas, what's your number?"

"I don't have a cell phone."

Marluxia frowned, "You're _going _to. I have to be able to find you at all times, and unless you want metal chip implanted in your head… a cell phone is the easiest option. It's almost unheard of, of someone your age _not _to have one."

Smiling sorrowfully he replied, "I pretty much gave all that kind of stuff up. College was what I was really concerned about. So I only got what I needed."

"Oh, forget college, kid! You're gonna have the world!" Larxene snorted mockingly.

A door was opened, and he felt himself being pushed out onto the sidewalk. He turned back to see a flash of smoke, and the limo was gone. The only trace of what had happened was scrap in his hand and the headache that was sure to come.

"The _world_… but what if it gets me first?" he whispered into the warm, muggy summer air of the city. Lights blinked, cars honked, and there wasn't a star in the sky. The world zoomed around Roxas so fast he was afraid to even try to join its race, let alone beat it. He was too slow, and he wanted time… he wanted to _think_. But no, keep moving; run, run, run… thinking took too much time, there was only time for _doing_.

Looking up at the brownish-purply sky, Roxas sighed. Time to go inside, his family would be wondering where he was.

* * *

Unlocking the door, Roxas was greeted by the kitchen light on and his mother sitting at the little table sipping a mug of most-likely-tea; the television's light glowed from the conjoining living room.

"Hi sweetie, why so late? Was there a problem at work? I wish you'd leave a message…" his mother said calmly, she knew her son didn't get into trouble like that. "Where'd you get those clothes? I don't remember you having them… Did you have a date that I forgot about?"

The sound of his brother laughing echoed through the house, and a brunette boy four years younger then Roxas stepped into the kitchen. "Rox, you're home! I was starting to think you got kidnapped or something like that."

Sora looked almost exactly like Roxas; people mistaken them for twins on countless occasions. The only difference was Sora was a smidge shorter, and his hair was brown and a lot thicker then Roxas's.

Blushing, Roxas ran his fingers through his hair. "Or something like that…" he mumbled.

"Ooh… You and Kairi?" Sora smirked and wiggled his eyebrows.

Roxas growled at his siblings words. "No! I barely know her! She's my- well, she _was _my coworker."

Roxas's mother's face fell and she set down her tea. "Oh no! They fired you? I'm so sorry honey!"

The blonde shook his head, "If only it were that simple…" he said slumping down in the chair across from his parent.

"Whatcha mean, big bro?" Sora asked curiously, leaning on the back of his brother's chair.

He gulped, "I was offered a job… a very good job… "

"How much it pay?" the brown haired boy asked eagerly.

"Depending on how well it goes? Possibly thousands."

Sora whistled, "You're kidding Rox! What, are you going to do, be part of the mafia?"

"I'm… gonna be… a… m-ma-_model_."

And with those five words, (seven if you take in consideration of the contraction _and _slang,) all _hell_ broke loose.

His mom was completely stunned, and Sora… _Sora_ was on the ground laughing like a hyena on LSD.

"I'm serious! This pink haired dude and this antenna lady came to the hotel and offered me the job! And I couldn't exactly refuse."

Propping himself up on his arms, Sora quieted his laughter enough to speak. "Sure they weren't aliens? Roxas, a model, yeah right!"

"I'm not kidding around! I'm leaving for California in two days."

Hearing this, his mother stood quickly and rushed to her and her husband's room. "Cloud, Cloud wake up! Roxas is running away with a pair of aliens to California to become a model!"

"WHAT!" called the sound of Roxas's father (still half-sleeping) voice.

Groggily, the oldest male Strife walked into kitchen, his wife half dragging, half clinging to his arm. "Areith, what's this about Roxas… running to be California's alien?"

The blonde boy smacked his forehead, "_No_, dad. I was given a job offer to do some modeling there. This guy who owns this big modeling company saw this picture of me and said he just had to have me."

Sora tried to restrain his giggles, Areith looked concerned, and Cloud was busy wiping the sleep out of his eyes.

"But you don't know _anything _about-" his mother began.

"I tried explaining this to him, but he doesn't care. I think he has so much money that even if I _do _suck it won't hurt him a bit." Roxas clarified.

"I'm… happy for you?" his father tried sheepishly, yawning. "What about college?"

Roxas's face fell. "I… I don't think I'll be going. I'm gonna be kinda busy with all this modeling junk. Well, if my first shoot goes well. If not… I guess Marluxia will ship me back here."

Finally regaining the ability to stand, his brother slung an arm around the blonde boy's shoulder. "How'd they get a picture of you anyways?"

Blushing, Roxas shook his head, "I have no clue."

Fretfully his mother fidgeted, "But what if we never see you again sweetheart? I know you said you were going to try to get your own place after college anyways, but now you're going to the other side of the country?"

"I know, I know, but if things go right I'll be able to have enough money to come fly over here whenever, or you guys there. It'll be great." Roxas reasoned with a soft, half-hearted smile.

"So you're really going?" sudden sadness dripped from his brother's words.

"Yeah," the blonde exhaled. Sora's arms tightened around his shoulders, hugging him.

"But who will I mess around with?" whined the chocolate haired boy.

Laughing at his sibling's complain the lean a little more in the smaller boy's arms. "That's what Riku's for."

Riku Jenova was the most popular boy at Sora's high school, and the resident rich snob's kid. Sepherioth, Riku's father, owned a company that sold bulk items, as well as 'specially ordered' items from across the globe (whatever _that_ meant). He was one of the scariest men Roxas had ever come across in his life. And as fate was, his father was Sepherioth's secretary or 'personal assistant' as the guys were called.

Sora and Riku met one day after Cloud had picked his son up after elementary school (Roxas was already home, the middle school was close so he usually walked) and got a sudden call from his boss. There had been an emergency, and Cloud had to come to his house immediately.

On arrival, the little third grader bounced merrily behind his father like a shadow. When Sepherioth opened the door Cloud quickly explained his child's presence and after eyeing the smiling boy, ushered them into his house.

The men left Sora in the living room to go discuss business where he sat on sofa, still grinning and swinging his legs as he looked around the expensively decorated room. He had been a bit surprised when a pair of aqua eyes peered at him from behind the doorframe.

When Sepherioth and Cloud came back they found the two wrestling, poking, and laughing at one another. Sepherioth had looked like someone had just bitch slapped him; his son _never _smiled, let alone laugh! He was quiet and respectful and didn't like showing his emotions much to anyone (as he had seen his father be).

None the less, the two boys soon became inseparable, and a few years later when Riku got older and his father went off for long spans of time, a regular at the Strife's house.

"It won't be the same without you always complaining, and telling us to get lives, and that you have your own friends, and that we're losers, and then asking if we want to go clubbing before you laugh and taunt us on how we're not old enough to drink yet!" cried Sora.

"Then I'll try to call like every day and bother you guys." promised Roxas.

"Still," grumbled the brunette childishly.

Just then another pair of arms found their way around Roxas and he looked to see his mother almost in tears.

"I can't believe your really leaving Roxas! Where are you going to live? What if they scam you out of all your money? What if- what if you get so stressed you start doing drugs!"

"Mom, I'll be fine. I read the contract thoroughly, everything's taken care of. And I think that movie stars and musicians get into drugs more then models."

The two brunettes continued hugging him for a long time, his father close by, nodding in reassurance when ever Roxas glanced at him.

"Okay guys, we should all get some sleep. I've got work and I'm sure Roxas is going to need some help packing." announced Roxas's father. Both mother and brother detached themselves from him and after a slap on the back (from Sora) and a kiss on the cheek (from mom) they wandered off to their rooms.

Roxas watched them distantly, his thoughts drifting in and out. He was really going away. The blonde hand imagined this day many times before, but somehow his over active mind had skipped this possibility. Hun, maybe he was loosing his touch… A hand crept its way onto his shoulder and he turned to see his father giving him the smallest half smile. And that right there meant the world to him.

"You should go to bed dad." Roxas knew his dad was completely drained, and that everything had happened so quickly (he was still going to go get the aspirin before bed) he knew it was going to be a while before it actually started to truly sink into all of their brains.

The next day for Roxas was filled mostly of packing, getting tackled to the floor by Sora, random outbursts by his mother begging him not to go, and the occasional phone call from his father from work (something almost unheard of).

They all made a point to try to be with Roxas as much as possible (or in Cloud's case listen to each other breath over the phone; neither liked the device very much). Sora even declined Riku going to the movies with him; which made Roxas imagine the silver haired boy having a heart attack, because Sora never said no, and Riku knew when Sora was busy because he was the one who usually reminded him what he had to do. (When Roxas thought of it, it was rather ironic. Cloud was Sepherioth's secretary and the rich guy's son was his brother's.)

About ten minutes later Riku was there, leaning in their doorway. He smirked when his aqua eyes met Roxas's. "A model, hun?"

"Your never gonna let me live this down, are you?"

Laughing, he closed the door behind him and claimed one of kitchen tables chairs. "You know it."

"I guess it wouldn't be so bad to be a model," commented Sora, taking a seat next to his best friend who gave him an odd look, "You'd be able to meet all the hot girl models."

"Yeah, Rox. Hook us up with a couple girls."

Roxas was trying his hardest not to turn beat red. After what Marluxia was going to make him go through, he'd be lucky to ever talk to a girl straight in the eye. Skirts never did anything for a guy's masculinity. Unless… you were Irish, but technically those were kilts and Roxas wasn't Irish anyways, so it didn't really matter.

Walking in from the living room Mrs. Strife smiled and greeted Riku. "Oh Roxas, do you need any more bags?"

"Mom, I'm not exactly sure where Marluxia's going to have me live, or if it's going to be long term or not. I have enough clothes to last me a month that's more then-"

"Woah, woah, wait a minute!" interrupted Riku. "_You _have a contract with _Marluxia_! _The _Marluxia?"

The blonde boy shrugged, "Pink hair, kinda tall? Can't miss him."

Tilting her head to the side, the brown haired women bit her lip, "Is he really that famous?"

Nodding, Riku crossed his arms. "Ever heard of the magazine "Twister"? He pretty much owns it. Well, not literally, but there's something about him in every issue; from debates on what shade of pink his hair is to whole layouts he's shot."

Sora scrunched his brow together, thinking hard. "Twister? That sounds familiar… but where? _Where?_"

"Namine use to buy that magazine I think. She said the clothes had great colors for her collages after she was done looking at it."the two's mother stated.

"No…I heard it somewhere else before…"

"You mean that game we played together last Sunday?" questioned the silver haired teenager.

Half jumping out of his seat, Sora smiled widely, and pointed at his friend for emphasis. "YES! YES, that's IT!"

Covering his face in his hands, the blonde scowled, "You're such an idiot Sora… I'm really gonna miss you, you dufess."

The boys were allowed to order a movie off the TV on the condition that Roxas had to call Marluxia and ask about luggage. One puppy dog pout from his brother and Roxas made the call to his terrifyingly pink new boss; the two other boys sandwiching between the phone to listen.

"Yes? Who is this? How did you get this number? One moment please, Larxene I'm on the phone! Sorry, now if you're some would-be model who thinks if I can somehow make your career soar, I'm afraid I just don't have time to-"

"Marluxia?" Roxas asked.

"Oh, Roxas! Larxene it's Roxas! Yes, he's on the phone _right _now! Say hi!" Riku had a weird, twisted look on his face from trying not to laugh at the… the _gayness _that his boss radiated. Sadly, his brother wasn't as courteous, and bits of laughter escaped his mouth frequently, and the glare Roxas gave him only worsened it.

"Hey kid." the bored voice of Larxene came over the phone. "Why the hell are you laughing?"

"It's my brother,"

"He sounds like a high pitched horse." Sora abruptly stopped at hearing that, making his silver haired friend smirk become even twisteder.

Marluxia got back on, "So whatcha need Roxy?"

"My mom's making a big deal about packing…"

"She's a mother, she's suppose to! But what's that have to do with my Roxy? Not that I care about you calling, you're _you_." chirped the pink haired male. Sora despite himself, despite being called a horse, giggled.

Frowning, Roxas pushed his younger sibling away and shooed Riku along with him. "Sorry, Sora and his friend are eavesdropping. I called 'cause my mother will never listen to a word I say when she's all twittery like this. So I need you as back up apparently."

"Oh? What's that have to do with packing dear?"

"I don't know any more! You've ripped children from their parents before, haven't you? You talk to her!"

Roxas could almost hear a purr in the man's words, "That I have, young Roxas. And if it takes a crowbar, some matches, a tank of gasoline, and a passenger balloon, we're still taking you back with us; no questions asked. So if I must talk to mother dearest, so be it."

Raising an eye brow, Roxas shuttered, "I certainly hope it doesn't come to that…"

"It won't! You are underestimating the power my charisma, Roxy. I got you to sign that contract, right? That took true talent you know; you're so stubborn. " he babbled.

Yeah, because Marluxia was the most charming person Roxas had _ever _met. The blonde couldn't help but steam a little. "Of course." he stated, his tone dead. "Mom!" he called, "it's for you."

Gladly handing over the phone to his dazed mother he wandered into the living room. Now… what movie should they get?

It seemed that Marluxia and his mom really clicked. They'd been talking on the phone with great vigor for over an hour. Popping a handful of popcorn into his mouth, Roxas unglued his eyes from the TV to look over at his parent. Sipping her tea she giggles, her eyes shining brightly.

Raising an eye brow he mumbled, "What _are _they talking about?"

"Girl stuff," replied Sora carelessly, stealing some of the popcorn from the bowel in his brother's lap. Roxas couldn't blame him, mom usually only got like that when she was talking with her girlfriends.

"Sora, Marluxia's a man," pointed out Riku, his eyes still fixed to the screen.

The brunette shrugged, "They're still talking about girl stuff. Clothes, makeup… _Roxas_."

"Why am I on the list of 'girl stuff'?" scowled the older brother.

Sora and Riku stared at each other disbelievingly before turning to him. "DURR," they replied together, as though that explained it all. Roxas still didn't get it at all, but he decided not to pursue the matter.

Pursing his lips, Roxas pretended to go back to watching the show. Who cared if there was an explosion, and people were dying, and the hero's best friend was really a robot spy who was programmed to kill him, but somehow learned so much about human emotion that they fell in love with him? No time for that, he had his own soap opera to live out.

Thinking… thinking…

What would happen now? That one question… a million answers running through his head…

* * *

The next morning Roxas woke up lying one the couch, his brother using him as a foot stool and Riku as a pillow. He didn't remember falling asleep, he didn't remember the movie, and he didn't remember what he was suppose to do today… it had been important, he was sure of it!

Sora snored lightly in his sleep, the slightest bit of drool running from his mouth onto Riku's (who had fallen asleep sitting up) pants. If it had been anyone but his brother there would be hell to pay (those were named brand jeans he had on), but the silver haired boy would happily show off his sibling's saliva to the entire world.

Sitting up, he cracked his neck; god that hurt! There was a reason why he didn't ever sleep on this dumb couch! Vague memories of a soft bed with silk covers alluded his mind… what he would give to lye on it again. Scratching his face he felt something wet and sticky. Looking at his hand he saw a glob of brown gunk. Chocolate syrup? _'What the hell did I do last-' _but before he could finished his thought the sound of the door interrupted him.

"Oh Rox-sis!" boomed a voice that shouldn't be that happy this early. Or should it? What time was it? "Where are you?"

"In here!" he croaked wearily. He could feel Sora starting to stir in his sleep and he hoped he woke up; he didn't want to push his brother off himself.

"Well, someone knows how to throw a going away party." Roxas turned to see Marluxia behind him, a devious smirk on his face. He bent over the blonde and trailed his finger down his cheek. Inspecting it for a moment he stuck it in his mouth, "Chocolate, my favorite."

"How'd you know which apartment to go to?" he asked yawning.

The pink haired man's face lit up immediately. "Your mother told me on the phone last night. She is just wondrous, I had the nicest conversation I've had in months the other night."

"Riku I want ice cream!" groaned Sora still half-asleep.

"I'll get you some latter…" replied the platinum haired boy, who was also still out of it.

Smiling at the brunette, Marluxia chuckled, "This must be your brother! And…?"

"Hmm, Sora's like his puppy; follows him everywhere. They get weird when they aren't in a thirty foot radius of each other."

The pink haired man wiped a pretend tear from his eyes, "A boy and his dog, that is true love."

Roxas rolled his eyes, "Right."

"Do you have your things ready? We really must be off, we have a plane to catch after all." He tapped at his wrist mimicking a watch.

"Sure, just give me ten minutes," swore the blonde. "Hey _Sora_! Sora you dim-wit, wake up so you can be sad about me leaving!" With a few soft kicks, the younger boy finally lifted his head.

"Whhhaaaat!" he whined, aggravated.

Roxas huffed, "I can't go if you're on top of me."

"You're leaving? Already?" His brothers eyes must have got as big as globes, before a glint of amusement filled them. "You have chocolate on your face."

Roxas scrunched his brows together. He _knew_ there was chocolate on his face! Did the world want to make this any more obvious? Maybe get a flashing sign saying, "This boy has chocolate on his face." What was he suppose to do about it when Sora just continued resting his feet on his stomach? It's not like he would actually_ want_ to go in the bathroom and wash it off his face!

"Get off!" he growled, kicking his legs again for good measure. Sora pouted, but drew his legs up in a ball and smushed himself closer to Riku who somehow managed to stay asleep. "You're so I _mean_ Roxas!"

Quickly retreating to the bathroom, the blonde did not reply. The room was rather small; you pretty much had to stand in the bathtub to use the sink, but Roxas had learned a while ago that if you pressed one foot against the wall and leaned at a certain angle you could have full usage of the sink and mirror.

Peering back at his reflection's dead eyes he wondered what had happened last night. Chocolate covered his cheek and forehead, his hair was a train wreck and smelled like… buttered popcorn? The white T-shirt he had changed into sometime the night before was stained with a florescent green splatter; like neon, glow-in-the-dark florescent. He wasn't even going to try to fathom what that might be…

Filling the sink to full capacity, he dunked his face in it. The moment the warm water struck his face he pulled back and shook his head like a wet dog. He scrubbed away the grime and hopefully the most of the butter smell. What a great impression he must have given his new employer.

After drying his hair the best he could, changing into something not science experiment worthy, and dragging his suitcase into the living room, he found Marluxia chattering in the kitchen over coffee (or more likely tea; Roxas's mother was a tea fanatic). He slummed down in a chair between the two.

"I'm going to miss you so much, sweetie! But at least I know you'll be in good hands." his mother hugged him close to her from her seat.

"Ugh, mom… too early… I'm dead right now." Roxas droned from the women's tight embrace.

"Roxas! Who knows when I'll see you again!" she said with soft sadness making Roxas feel guilty. He hated it when she did that… "You'll call me when you get off the plane, right?"

"Of course he will!" Marluxia exclaimed. "I can tell how hard this is for you."

Roxas's eyes darted around the apartment, his mother said something again, but he hadn't been paying attention. "What happened to Tweedledee and Tweedledumb?"

As though on cue the shadow of a certain silver haired boy cast over him. "I assume I am Tweedledee."

"Hey!" the brunette boy beside him protested.

"You take turns." stated Roxas, stealing some of his mother's tea; he needed the caffeine. Hmm, jasmine today… nice, he would have liked it better if their wasn't sugar in it; he preferred honey.

Riku snorted at him, "Well you certainly have the snobby part of being a model down." The boy crossed his arms smirked at him.

Marluxia seemed a bit vexed from the statement, "Not all models are snobby."

"But Larxene is so-" but before Roxas could finish what could possibly have been the most regrettable sentence of young man's life, realization covered his boss's face.

"Oh no, Larxene! I left her outside and didn't even think about it. She's probably wondering what happened to us." the pink haired man examined the stove's digital clock. "We stayed longer then I expected; we really must be off."

A bit more awake, though still zombafied Roxas nodded. He stood from his chair and went to retrieve the too big bag his mother had helped pack and hauled it to the front door. Much like the two nights before he was soon bombarded with hugs and kisses and promises to call (besides Riku, who just smirked an said, "Don't forget about the little people when you're writing your will." Like _he _needed more money, pugh).

Graciously bidding everyone farewell, saying how wonderful it was to meet them and hoped they would again in the future, Marluxia took Roxas's bag in one hand and picked it up like it was feather. The guy was stronger then he looked; scary. The blonde was then quickly ushered out before his mother and/or brother had another 'Roxas is leaving us' attack and pinned him to the floor like one would a butterfly (except not framed, and on a wall).

"What took so long, Mar? I thought you and Roxy's mom were like this." said Larxene crossing her middle and index fingers together.

"Air port, Martin." commanded the pink haired man. Putting on his seat belt he frowned. "We are! It's just… Roxas was a bit disheveled and then me and Areith got talking, and then they had to say their goodbyes."

Pulling her sun glasses down a bit to look at the younger blonde questionably, "Disheveled?"

"He was covered in chocolate." confirmed Marluxia.

Larxene whistled, "Crazy sex or what?"

Roxas's face turned the color of a tomato; did the women have no shame! "NO! Or at least, I don't remember. I was pretty out of it last night. But I'm leaning more towards food fight with my brother."

"You got drunk? You look pretty good for someone with a hangover."

He shook his head, "No, nothing like that. I was just… anxious. My mind tends to wander when I'm stressed. Big changes doesn't agree with me very well."

"Well it's time to put on your Pull-Ups, kid. 'Cause starting today, everything's gonna be different." With the same malicious grin as ever, she rolled down the window a crack and lit of a cigarette.

Surprisingly, Roxas managed to stay with it. Time was zipping past him as fast as lightning, like watching a snail against a turtle in a race. Now he knew those two comparisons totally contradicted the other, but that's what it felt like. Everything was going too fast or too slow, nothing at the right pace. Noting normal. Nothing like his nice little life was use to.

Nice… Kairi. He hadn't told her about this, there hadn't been enough time. It didn't matter he supposed; it wasn't like they had any serious relationship. They had been on a total of two dates all together, as work had allowed them. And besides, it wasn't likely that he would ever see her again.

And just like that, Roxas dismissed the girl from his mind never to be though of again. Something he didn't do often, if ever, because he was a brooder. But, he had a lot of bigger things to think of.

The plane ride hadn't been as bad as he thought it was. Lifting off had left him a bit woozy, but once they were actually in the air and moving he was fine. Marluxia's chatter filled the hours and when Roxas wasn't half-listening he was would look out the window or doze a bit. Larxene added her commentary when she found necessary, but for the most part she left him alone, her nose stuck between the pages of a magazine.

As soon as they had gotten of the plane Marluxia and Larxene rushed him into a waiting limo; the less the public saw them the better. The ride to wherever they were going was silent. Half an hour latter they stopped in front of a tall, rich looking building.

Roxas stared at it in shock. This was an apartment building; apartment buildings weren't suppose to look luxurious. It reminded him of The Destiny a bit, and he wondered if it too had soft beds and silky covers…

Before his daydream went any further, his boss's voice shattered it like having a rock thrown at a window. "We'll show you where you'll be living and let you settle in. Oh, and remember to call your mother!"

On the fifth floor they lead Roxas to a door marked E13. The pink haired man pulled out an overly decorated white key with black swirly patterns from his pants pocket and slid it into the door.

The place was _huge_, or at least it seemed that way from what Roxas was use to. And that was living with three other people (with addition of Riku more often then not)! He had this place all to himself.

Raising her sunglasses to rest on the top of her head, Larxene vaguely motioned with her hands around the dwelling. "This's the living room, behind that counter's the kitchen, bathroom, closet over there, bedroom, yatee, yata. You'll figure it out."

For the majority, the apartment was almost completely empty, which only made it seem bigger yet. From what Roxas could see there was a couch, a coffee table, a stand with a TV on it, and by the counter a few tall stools stood. It was simple; Roxas could deal with simple. In fact, the simpler the better. He shoved his bag against the wall closest from he door and slowly began to wander this new space of his absent mindedly.

"Now Roxas," Marluxia started, and when the blond turned his head the two other's were sitting on his sofa. "Tomorrow we're going to see about getting you a cell phone and discuss the modeling classes more, okay?"

Numbly, he nodded his head, quickly going back to his mindless inspection. He barley heard their footsteps as they rose or the door slamming as they left. Roxas found himself in what he guessed was his new bedroom. It was rather bare, like everywhere else in the apartment, but it had a queen sized bed in the corner, a tall dresser right of the door, and a window seat that overlooked the busy road.

Taking in a deep breath, lids covered blue orbs. For a moment he just stood, absorbing the place. And then, without any warning, he jumped face first onto his fresh, new mattress. It wasn't made with soft foam, and it's covers weren't silk, but it was the best he had ever called his own.

Roxas wearily kicked off his shoes. He wasn't sure why he was so drained, but he guessed it had something to do with jet lag, he _had _just gone through two time zones.

"I can't believe it," he mumbled into his pillow. "I'm really in California..."

* * *

Modeling school was perhaps the worst experience of Roxas's life. Everyone else in the class were girls. And the teacher completely hated him. She was one of those feminist kind of women that hated all men; she often glowered at him.

Most of the models acted similar. Once they heard that he already had a contract, with _Marluxia_ no less, they would openly display their envy to him. The worst part of it was, he had no clue what he was doing.

"Rox-ixs," the teacher said in an accent the blonde was unfamiliar with, "I ave no idea what possessed Marl-loo-ee-auh 'en 'e saw you, but you will never be a goo' model 'ike dis."

Roxas blushed and trained his gaze to the floor. "I am sorry, Miss. I'm just… auh, this isn't what he intends me to model."

The teacher rolled her eyes at him, annoyed. She was a thin, curvy women with long black hair that billowed down her shoulders. "Den what does 'e expect you ta do?"

Blushing deeper, he fiddled with his fingers, the other models were giggling at him. "I don't know how exactly… to put it into words." he admitted.

The instructor huffed, "What use 're you, boy?"

"But… I can… _show _you."

His teacher, along with all the other females looked intrigued by this. Roxas was going to hate himself this… Marluxia never said what exactly he wanted Roxas to do at school, but he was right about one thing… Roxas couldn't model male clothes.

"Den s'ow us." commanded the teacher, motioning towards the dressing closets behind the red curtains. He was going to regret this…

But he did it any ways, he could hate himself later. Maybe if his teacher was so… disturbed, disgusted, _anything, _she'd talk to Marluxia and convince him that the contract with the blonde had been a bad idea.

Gingerly he looked at the racks of skirts and dresses. He decided on something simple (because Roxas loved simplicity). Grabbing the first things he could find that fit, he wriggled out of his clothes and put the new ones on.

Taking a damp cloth he cleaned away all the makeup that had been applied to his to his face before. Instead he frowned at the mirror him and unscrewed the top of the mascara.

Since Roxas was young, he had always been his big sister's doll of sorts. Namine never wore much makeup herself, but to her applying it was just another art form. When Sora was born, he thought he'd be thrown away for the smaller, 'cuter', boy. But he had not, since his skin color was closer to his sister's and the fact they he wasn't always trailing behind anyone like a shadow. Slowly, he had learned a bit about the stuff, and by the time Nami's senior prom came around and her hands were shaking nervously, Roxas could put the stuff on for her without making her look like a clown.

Taking a brush he combed his hair quickly, flattening it only the slightest. He was doomed to a life of never ending bed head. Again, did he have to inherit _everything _from his father? Was he suppose to be like… a Mini-Me of Cloud? Okay, that was just freaky, so he was going to pretend he never thought of it.

A bit of lipstick, and a dab of blush later he straightened his clothes, a jean mini-skirt with spiraling jewel patterns on the left side, and a plain, sleeveless yellow top. Slipping on a pair of sandals, he was done. Roxas gazed timidly at the maroon curtains, they were waiting.

Walking out from behind the wall of cloth, his face as red as could be, he thought he might die right there. The women just stared at him. Stared, and stared, like he was some newfound species. He gulped, his instructor seemed most shocked of all.

Embarrassed, he tottered slowly towards them, trying to calm his racing heart. They're eyes were wide, and full of astonishment, disbelief… hatred? The blonde stood in front of his teacher, unsure of what to do. For a moment she appeared as though she might fall over, but then her mouth started to twitch, and there was a gleam in her eyes.

It was the first time she had ever smiled at him.

That night he slept thankful for the fact that tomorrow was the last day of his classes. _'That was only day one of the end of the world.'_

The next day, everyone was nicer to him. The teacher was more patient with him, and the other students smiled brightly at him, approaching him gracious greetings and talking animatedly to him. Suddenly he dresses like a transvestite and they're cool with him? Those girls needed therapy. They should frown at him, or at least laugh! Hello, guys weren't suppose to wear that kind of stuff! He'd never understand them at all…

When Marluxia came to pick him up at the end of the day, his instructor assured him that Roxas had passed with flying colors and she and all the other girls were gong to miss him dearly. Regardless of what she said, the blond still had no idea what he was doing. What was it he was even suppose to be learning? All he had done was try clothes on, he could have done that at the mall for Pete's sake!

"So, did you have fun?" Marly asked when they were in vehicle.

He groaned, happy to be in pants once more. "No."

"At all?"

"I'm glad it's over."

"Now, now," the pink haired man said, "it's only just begun! Your first shoot is tomorrow! So you better have a good dinner and go to sleep early, you have a bright new day tomorrow."

Roxas rolled his eyes good naturedly at him, "Whatever you say, _mom_."

"How is she? Your mother, I mean." Marluxia asked.

The blonde sighed, "She's getting through it. She's been calling me everyday and won't let me get off the phone for at least an hour." He closed his eyes tiredly, "I'm not sure if I can do this Marly."

"I'm sure you'll be fine."

* * *

Roxas was not fine.

The clothes made him want curl over and die, the shoes pinched his feet and he was nervous as hell.

He wasn't sure why, either. It wasn't like this was a live show or anything. The only people in the room was Marly (he was shouting out orders), Larxene (she'd been board), the photographer (a blonde, British man with his left ear pierced and the smell of stale whiskey on his breath), a couple technical people (was that what they were called?), and one of the makeup artists (after half an hour of being with her, Roxas decided he hated all makeup artist, period).

Smoothing down his white, flowing, skirt he turned to Marluxia. "I have no idea what I'm doing."

Marluxia, who had been barking orders at the assistants, suddenly turned and smiled brightly at him. "Don't worry! It'll be easy."

Half covering his face in his hands, Roxas shook his head. "Really, I don't know what to do."

Sipping from a bottle of Coke, Larxene rolled her eyes. "What were you doing when '_that' _picture was taken?"

"Well, I was completely pissed. It wasn't like I was posing; it was natural. I was so mad I didn't even notice that anyone took a picture of me."

Taking this in, the rose haired man clapped his hands together gently. "And how do you feel now?"

"Nervous. Scared, but mostly nervous."

Raising one arm in the air and placing the on his hip, Marluxia grinned deviously. "Than that's what we're gonna do!"

"_What_?" asked the golden haired boy, confused.

"Well most models do a bit of acting too, so they can easily show any emotion. But we're just gonna cheat a little. We'll save fake emotions for when you're a little more comfortable with this; real emotion looks better any ways."

Roxas was pushed lightly in front of the camera looking like a deer in headlights. "All you got to do is be nervous and cute. And you already are, so just keep doing it." Marluxia assured.

A bit stunned, he barley noticed as the camera flashed. When he did, his blush deepened a shade and he clutched his hands together, similar to one does in prayer. Yes it would go, _'Oh, dear Lord, what purpose do you have for putting me __**here**__, of all places?'_

Another flash and he stumbled back a little. Flash. He fell back, landing on his butt, his arms behind him; how humiliating. Flash. He got up, smiling sheepishly, Marluxia was going to hate him for this. Flash.

The little burst of lights went on for a little less then two hours, maybe an hour and a half, when Marluxia ordered everyone to halt; it was way past lunch.

"You did magnificent Roxy!" praised Marluxia, walking out of the studio.

"Meh." was the blonde's only reply as he followed after the taller man. Gosh, he was hungry. _Fooood_. He pulled at the strings of his new hoodie in anticipation. It was one that he had modeled after the skirt get up (women's pants were a lot worse in is opinion), Marluxia said he could have whatever he modeled after they were done shooting it, in fact it was necessary; it was good advertisement. That would have been pretty cool, if he'd been modeling anything that he'd actually _want _to wear. And worst of all, when he went to the dressing room his clothes had been taken. Apparently, one of the makeup artists thought they were garbage ("They were _soo _two years ago!") so he was forced to wear what he had on. At least it wasn't the skirt.

For once they walked. Roxas was thankful, he was getting sick of tinted windows and perfectly cooled air.

People gazed at him in question, wondering who he might be, standing next to the pink haired man beside him. But soon their interested faded from the nameless boy an instantly drew towards Marluxia himself.

Marly only regarded them with a small smile, an occasional nod. He wore thick framed sun glasses, as he usually did in public. And by the time they finally got somewhere for lunch, the blond knew why.

The camera flashes at the studio had stunned him at first, but multiple camera's going at once was killer. His eyes were _burning_; he was surprised he wasn't blinded! So the paparazzi were real, it wasn't just some myth sadly. Really, didn't they have anything else to do, like help hungry children in Africa?

The older male had brought him to a quaint little restaurant, and they got a seat in the corner, as far away from the windows as possible. "Looks like we're going to be in the tabloids tomorrow." Marluxia commented calmly as he picked up his menu. He lowered it for a moment to look at the blonde, tapping his glasses. "I forgot to tell you, but you might want to get a pair of these."

_Yes, defiantly._

"Aren't you worried about the tabloid thing?"

"Not really," admitted the pink haired man. "Unless they're physic and actually guess what's really going on. It would totally ruin the whole surprise effect to our audience if we just went out there and said, 'Oh, the tabloids were right'. But, of course they'll never know; at the most they may put you as a new model."

"All publicity is good?" Roxas tried, his voice questioning.

Marluxia smirked widely, going back to the menu, "Exactly."

* * *

Imorb: Happy Akuroku day! BD The next chapter is half way done... not sure when that'll be done with, but hopefully soon? Also, I'm hoping to get a oneshot posted today. *sigh* It's so long and im not even half way done! XD Oh well...

Next chapter we'll see Axel again! 8D Yay! maybe? lol

Again, review me. Don't bagger me on updates. If I rush it'll turn out to be shit. And just saying update stresses me out really. So don't push updates on me PLEASE! DX This's so suppose to be enjoyable for BOTH reader and writer!


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